


Definitely Your Son

by Reaping



Series: Artsy April [1]
Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: April Fools, Crack, Established Relationship, Fluff, Games, Kid!Fic, M/M, Sheriff Stilinski/Melissa McCall (minor), revenge (of the amusing kind)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-04-01
Updated: 2016-04-01
Packaged: 2018-05-30 12:06:03
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,151
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6423298
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Reaping/pseuds/Reaping
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>April 1st Prompt: Games</p><p>“Disaster walking, he’s definitely your son.”</p>
            </blockquote>





	Definitely Your Son

**Author's Note:**

> I'm doing a lovely challenge with some friends called Artsy April. They'll be doing art, but since I cannot draw or paint or sculpt or do basically anything art-related to save my life, I'm doing a daily fic. I hope you enjoy! 
> 
> If I missed tags let me know. Concrit is always welcome and appreciated.

“APRIL FOOLS!” Derek bit back on his irritation as he peeled his ass off the chair he’d been glued to, turning to the boy next to him and pasting a fake smile on his face.

“Ha ha, you got me good.” The amber eyes looking up at him sparkled before the boy ran off, no doubt to prepare another “prank”. He heard a muffled snort behind him, turning to find Stiles completely red-faced, hand pressed over his mouth and chest heaving.

“Oh, oh my god Der. Your…um…,” another bout of hysterical laughter interrupted whatever Stiles had been about to say before he finally turned around, eyes squeezed shut to get himself under control. “Der, you left part of your pants on the chair.”

“WHAT?!?” Derek spun to face the kitchen chair, dismayed to see that a chunk of his sweatpants were indeed still attached to the seat. He reached a hand around to discover that his bare ass was now on display, his other hand coming up to rub harshly across his eyes before he pinched the bridge of his nose. He took a deep breath before dropping that hand to help cover his butt, snarking at Stiles as he passed him, headed for the stairs and a new pair of sweats. “Disaster walking, he’s definitely your son.”

“Rude!” Stiles scoffed at the comment, hip-checking Derek before going to hunt under the sink for something that might dissolve the glue so they didn’t have to replace the chair. He was halfway into the cabinet under the sink when something cold and slimy touched his foot, causing him to jerk in surprise and bang his head on the pipes, yelping in surprise. By the time he’d extricated himself, his son was gone from the scene, but he heard the faint yell of “April Fools” from somewhere deeper in the house. He glanced down and discovered that what he’d felt on his foot was a slug. Where the hell had the kid found a slug in the house? He picked it up and headed out into the garden dropping it just outside the door.

He took a minute to enjoy the unseasonably warm day before a crash from inside reminded him that his son was, for some reason, completely hooked on April Fool’s pranks this year. The crash was followed fairly quickly by Derek yelling his name, like everything currently happening was his fault. He jogged back inside and up the stairs, trying to guess what might have happened. The sight before him was more entertaining than it had any right to be. Derek was sprawled on their bedroom floor, hair sticking up at all angles (probably from where he’d been tugging at it in frustration), disgruntled expression on his face. Spread out underneath and around him were – what it seemed like anyhow – all of the Legos they had in the house. There’s no way he could’ve missed them when he went in to change, which means their son must have done a drive-by flinging of them before Derek could catch him. It meant planning, because Stiles was pretty sure there used to be different sets of Legos scattered around the house in different boxes. And Stiles loved his son, he did, but that kid was not a planner. Not like this, anyhow.

Before Stiles could get further in that thought, the house phone began to ring. He carefully made his way downstairs, eyes flicking back and forth trying to catch a mop of dark hair, ears straining around the ringing to hear the patter of little devious feet. He made it to the phone safely and let out a relieved breath, glad that Derek had taken the worst of the pranks so far today – hey, he was a werewolf, he could handle it.

“ ’Lo, Stilinski-Hale residence?” He kept his back to the wall, trying to prevent the kid from being able to sneak up on him.

“Son, I know whose house I’m calling, so does anyone who actually has this number.”

“Heeey dad. Now is possibly not a good time, Luke is on a tear today.”

“That so?” Stiles couldn’t be sure, but he thought he caught the edge of laughter in his dad’s voice, which didn’t make any sense, since he wasn’t here and didn’t know what had been going on this mor–

“You devious bastard! This is your doing isn’t it?”

“I don’t think I know what you’re talking about Stiles.” He heard the laughter before everything cut off and he was left with a dial tone. He could guess how this had come about – he’d invented a game for Luke when he found out his dad was sneaking junk food whenever he babysat, so Luke’s newest game was to make sure grandpa couldn’t eat anything unhealthy. It was a work in progress, because health food was hard to explain to a five-year-old. Stiles startled out of his thoughts when he felt a hand on his shoulder, turning his head to see Derek had finally freed himself from the deathtrap that was their bedroom floor and made it safely down the stairs and was currently glaring at him, apparently having heard at least the tail end of the conversation.

“What did you do Stiles?”

“I may have set Luke to watching what my dad eats.” Stiles had the grace to look chagrinned when he answered.

“Stiles…” his name came out as a sigh, because they both knew the sheriff could be especially sneaky when he was getting revenge. He watched his husband roll his eyes and grit his teeth, head cocking as he no doubt listened to whatever their son was doing. It’s not like watching Derek was a hardship by any means, so he was still staring when the smile started to creep across Derek’s face. “I have an idea.”

The look on his father’s face was priceless when he opened the door to find Luke with his overnight bag.

“Hi gram-pa,” he popped his ‘p’s just like Stiles, “I’m here for my special sleepover! Dad an Daddy said you called and missed me!” John smiled down at his grandson, unable to resist ticking him before telling him to head on into the house to find Grandma Melissa. He turned back to Stiles and Derek, ready to gripe at them for putting him in a position where he couldn’t say no when he heard a sudden shriek from inside followed by the childish yell of “April Fools!”. When he turned back, Stiles and Derek were clutching onto each other to stay upright, both of them laughing maniacally.

“How did you get so evil?”

“Don’t play games with a master dad.” He watched them turn back to the car, yelling after them. Saw Stiles’ hand come up in a half wave, an acknowledgement that he’d heard him, but definitely wasn’t worried about it.

“You’re gonna pay for this son!”

**Author's Note:**

> I have a [Tumblr](http://jennthereaper.tumlbr.com) if you'd like to come poke at me there.


End file.
